The Case of the Murdered Mother
by TehPinkKitten
Summary: Veronica Williams, an average woman with an normal life but suddenly changes after her mother was murdered by some crime she thinks was random. She meets Holmes and his partner, Dr. Watson and go on a adventure that will twist Veronica's mind. HolmesXOC.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Before i start, i do apologize about this being short. I will try my best for future chapters. This is my first fic, dont be harsh. .**

**Lets get this over with...**

The Case of the Murdered Mother: Chapter One

She sat there, emotionless with her knees bent close to her chest and her left arm slung around her legs while her right arm laid aside from her as if it were lifeless. She stared at the carriage that arrived in front of her villa where it was surrounded by police men and was penetrated by them. She shivered as a cold air breezed against her pale skin. Her tongue flicked at her dry lips as she gripped her legs with her right hand. All she had on was a cotton blue dress with her feet bear and her hair down.

London was cold that day, about below 40 degrees, she concluded but she didn't care as she sat there helplessly, ignoring anyone who wanted to help her. She stared at nothing with her eyes, but paying attention closely in her mind as the scene played in her mind over and over trying to find reasoning to the killers intentions over her own mother.

The breeze paused momentarily as she felt a very warm hand against her pale, cold shoulder which caused her to wince slightly. She instinctively looked at the man beside her as he kneeled down next to her. She began observing him as he gave her a smile out of pure daringness. She noticed that he had a cane but not only that, there was a white line surrounded nearly at the knob of the cane, giving her a conclusion that there must be a fancy hidden blade, such a peculiar weapon for a fancy dressed man like him. Not only that but she noticed that he was a bit of a gambler as she saw boxing tickets barely sticking out of his side pocket from his waistcoat. It was tucked in away but she could see the number he played. He was a consistent man as he played the same number, giving his money away for the same person which gave the number '13'. Her eyes glanced at his shoes and noticed nothing peculiar but the way he knots his lacing, with a double knot, describing him as a neat man. The most oddest is that she found a medical bag laying behind the kneeling man which judging by the looks of it, a medical man was his main profession.

"Relax," his voice was soft to the ear as she listened carefully for anything describing him as an unhealthy man but she found none. "I am a-"

"A doctor," she finished his thought for him, saving him the trouble of explaining. "I'm well aware with the medical bag." she did not glance, nor even point to the bag but just mentioned was all she did. "That is not all you do. You can see by the boxing tickets with all of them numbered '13', you are a man of consistency and a bit of a gambler. Also, the white line I am familiar with on your cane, that tells me that you must have a either a dagger or a small but sturdy sword concealed inside. Should I continue?" she asked, mostly with a cold voice, colder than her skin itself. The man looked with surprise as he saw the woman in front of her who, for a minute, thought she was a detective the way she came to her conclusion about him. He couldn't stand to hear less, instead, he turned his head to his companion, Sherlock Holmes himself and signaled him to greet the both of them.

"Do continue, you have great deductive skills. Apply it once more about me." he suddenly became interested on how far she would go.

She scanned him once more before continuing. The detective paused on his work to see why was Watson taking time away. Watson held out a hand to Holmes's wrist before he decided to meet Watson on his knee.

"You are a married man for you are not an engaged one. I can see you have a mark from your engagement ring on your left and your actual marriage ring on your right. Not only a married man but you are also a strong, intelligent man who used to be in the Army. No wonder it explains the concealed blade."

"Well done." Holmes clapped his hands and held them near his mouth. It was only the second times since he saw a woman who was able to judge a man by his looks and become precise.

"Not to be rude," she looked at her right arm that seemed to be lifeless. "But..."

"Its obviously disjointed." Watson said as he softly placed his hand over the bruised which responded over a sharp hiss from Veronica. "For that it would have had some swelling if it had been fractured."

"The matter is, you weren't on the first floor at the time the murderer entered the house, nor killed your mother. How did you disjoint your arm, exactly?" Holmes asked as a detective would. She shook her head softly as she remembered the face of her dead mother who was, none the less, lifeless.

A long breeze came by which made her shiver involuntary and pulled her legs closer. Watson seemed to notice but Holmes was too preoccupied on observing the crime scene. Watson was quick to remove his waistcoat and threw it behind her, opening it and covering her. He stood slowly and offered a hand. "May I?" he asked before grabbing her hand. When she nodded gently, he pulled up. After a trance, Holmes winced and took notice at was happening and decided to help the doctor lift her.

"Thank you Doctor. Why were you so still, Detective?" Veronica asked as he still kept an eye on her mother.

"Hmm... Peculiar..." he didn't mind her as he walked inside the villa and only him alone while Watson stood outside the steps with Veronica. He searched around the woman who was laid across the floor with a nasty gash on her head. She was hit with a metal stick and stabbed by the same object, judging by how large the wound is. Without passing over with any blood, he took a close look of the foot steps. A large man, who apparently is a size 8 but maybe 8 and a half by Holmes's deduction and were certainly men feet. The man was very large judging by the thickness from his feet. The exact weight and height is to be unknown for now but because the woman he just met never described the man from the start, he knew that this man had a mask to disguise him. He then hummed as he dropped to his knees next to the woman's wrist and saw the murderer's handprints against her wrist of where he held her down and there was something missing and then he reached her fingers. There was a pale halo around her middle finger of the missing ring he saw where telling by light color, she proudly wore recently.

"Very peculiar..." he hummed again as moved the woman's blonde hair away from her bright face. He frowned and let out an exhausted sigh as he removed a handkerchief from his top pocket and cleaned his hands. Looking around, he slowly stood and began leaving the living room, emerging from the house with more data. Watson had just guided Veronica into the carriage and looked at her before climbing in. While Holmes began walking to the carriage, he looked up and the dark sky with a hint of purple and thought about the list of suspects but he couldn't without HER list of suspects. He still needed to gather more facts before coming into a quick inference but without even the slightest doubt that this assignment would be different from the rest. He thought that this assignment will be an brief one just like the others but no assignment easy to accomplish and he knew there would be uneasy drops but he has to make the best of those.

He reached the bar from the hood of the carriage and gripped it before climbing in with Watson and Veronica.

"I have not come to a conclusion yet but I still need data from you, Veronica." he suggested as he told her. Holmes already knew her name as it were stated on the pile of papers he had in his room. He chose her for a reason and she just needed to know why.

"I will give you as much information as you need to find my mother's murderer, Sherlock." and she already knew him by the description given to her in the past about the infamous Sherlock Holmes. He found it coincidental that he had found a woman who had the same skills as him and he needed to found out how is it possible.

"All for later as patients comes to us. I must relocate your arm to its regular position. Before that, care to explain?"

"Well Doctor, just ten minutes after the murderer had a nasty brawl with my mother, I already came to a decision that she was dead, thus, there were no noises so I decided to head down myself. Before I can explain, I can only say that the reason that I couldn't run down immediately is that, truth be told, I was frightened that I would be next. Just when I thought the murderer had already left the house, he was there, standing over my deceased mother and staring coldly into my eyes, hidden cowardly behind a black mask. I couldn't tell he was a robber but none the less I attacked him all the same. He was a fighter, I could tell by his great Jujitsu. He demonstrated his prowess as he took my arm in the most uncomfortable position before flexing his hand and popping my shoulder. Of course I had to take something from him, giving him a nasty gash of his neck, hence the blood on the floor and my hands, before he ran away, just as I suspected, cowardly."

"Thank you."

"Now my turn," Holmes grabbed her attention and nodded at her. "You lured me in to the point that you thought he was a robber. Why was that and if you thought he wasn't."

"The man in the mask couldn't be a robber whatsoever. Like I said, he was a great fighter and robbers usually don't have a substantial amount of pounds for someone to educate them about fighting. So I've come to a conclusion by this man's white hairs upon his arms and fingers that he was around his 50's give-or-take." she began rubbing her temples as thinking roughly began to take its toll. The detective leaned back and rested his head at the head of the chair as he sighed deeply.

"That's enough for today, Ms. Williams."

"I can tell you more if you'd like."

"Alright..." Holmes clapped his hands together and leaned close to her face. "Where is your brother, Michael Williams?" his voice suddenly went low.

"I'll tell you what you need to know, Holmes. All I can tell you is that he wanted to become a detective. I have been writing small letters to him because he lives so far."

"How far?"

"Dublin, Ireland."

"Far, indeed. Has he ever visited this past few days?"

"No... But I bet he will after I tell him what happened this night." Suddenly, grief began to wash over he once again as she cupped her hands over her face. "He should... I need a family member to embrace me. I greatly missed it ever since."

Holmes sighed as he hit a dead end from one direction he was hoping that would lead him. He knew he must reverse and choose a different path.

She had a weakness, Holmes thought. He knew that if the murder figured it out what it was, she would not be able to survive.

"Write to your brother. Tell him that he must visit and that I said he must." Said Holmes. She nodded slightly but she couldn't ask why it was so urgent that he needed her brother. "And about your father?"

"I haven't seen him for well about a year."

"Hmm." Holmes sat in an upright position as they arrived to their destination. The driver had opened the door for them as Watson was the first to step out of the carriage before helping out Veronica by taking her left hand and gently luring her out of the carriage.

Almost immediately, she was familiar with the street she was in and felt a large amount of comfort as she snuggled herself under Watson's coat. "This is Baker Street..." she breathed as she gave out a comforting smile.

"It is," Holmes let out a sigh as he stepped out of the carriage and enjoying the view of the apartment building with Veronica. "Do you know this area?"

"I do. I was raised here when I was 5."

"Your mother owned a section of an apartment around here?"

"Across the street from here actually." she pointed blindly behind her as her eyes wandered on the steps and towards the door frame. Holmes had begun to lead her up the steps while Watson removed his keys to unlock the door. Holmes lured her in their home before Watson shut the door behind him, locking it with an audible click. Not only that, but the two men heard her sneeze and groan simultaneously before her head bowed. Before Watson can ask what the matter was, Veronica's knees buckled as she moaned softly before falling forward. Watson was fast though, fast enough to notice and catch her and hold her into his arms. He brought his hand to her forehead and then her cheek, groaning at the result.

"Holmes," he looked at him, eyes filled with worry as he hardly said, "She's burning..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Before i countine...School is a huge bother and there is no way i can fit this story into my life. Its too packed .**

**no worried, found a way...**

The Case of the Murdered Mother: Chapter Two

Veronica turned her body so that she was on her sides but the thick quilt was hard to let her do so. Her body was covered in sweat as she brushed some of it off with her right forearm. She moaned softly as her eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar window where the sun was too bright for her eyes as she was forced to closed them. With a tired groan, she twisted to her other side where she met a mirror mounted on a dark-wood bureau. She was in an unfamiliar house and that immediately made her tense slightly but before she can raise her body, she began coughing which woke up the sleeping doctor that had rest himself on an armchair in the dark corner of the room.

"Easy," Watson told her as he rushed to her, pushing her body gently back into the bed. He looked at her oddly when he felt her tense muscles. "Relax, this is my home."

"What happened?" she asked as she brought her right arm back to her face, cleaning most of her face with her hand and wrists. No matter how overly exhausted she was, she wanted to stand and walk. "Where's Holmes?" she asked with a worried tone.

"He's in his room, trying to spot anything that may lead to your mother's murderer." Watson answered her as he placed the back of his hand against her forehead and slid down to her cheek, relieved to feel that she is recovering. "Raise your right arm for me." he instructed her as she followed willingly. "Stretch upwards." she did what she was told as she extended her arm, reaching for the ceiling. Watson hummed as he found all was working well with her shoulder.

"You were outside during my sleep, judging by your different outfit and fresh mud on your shoes. Where did you go and what time is it?" She asked as she sat up on the bed, pushing some of the quilt off of her chest. She looked at what she was wearing; confused at the fact she was wearing a nightgown.

"I went to gather the morning paper and breakfast." said Watson as he dug for his medical bag that he left underneath the bed from yesterday night. As he began to remove the stethoscope from the bag, she covered her face as she let out an extremely loud sneeze which tightened her chest slightly and made her groan. Watson had placed the stethoscope near his lips and exhaled hot air to warm it up. He placed the buds in his ear, tapped the end a few, and placed it against her chest.

"Breathe." he told her and she followed as she inhaled slowly and exhaled a sigh. He hummed to himself this time as he removed the buds from his ear and placed the stethoscope back in the medical bag. "You should be well by tomorrow."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"My pleasure." he gave her a smile before nodding and standing on his feet. His head turned to the opening door as he saw a woman walk in with a silver tray in her hands and resting on the tray is a cup of tea and the tag of the teabag hanging out of it. The woman had a frail face and white hairs on the root of her hair tells Veronica that she is a middle-aged woman, 56 to be exact but her hands tell otherwise as they were not trembling while she gave her the tea. "This is Ms. Hudson." Watson informed Veronica she hesitated to take the tea. "She is our landlady but you may speak freely to her as you do to both Holmes and I." Watson introduced the both of them before dismissing himself to go speak to Holmes. Before the Watson could even get near the door, he heard a familiar violin playing in the room which means that Holmes is practicing his violin. Watson entered without knocking, his habit to Holmes, and watched him move his hand gracefully and his body swaying with the slow, saddening tune.

"Watson?" The playing had stopped as he still faced the window.

"Correct," Watson's eyes caught the pile of papers at his desk but his mind seem to bring back to the violin playing. "Such a melancholic tune, Holmes." the words seem to slip out of his mouth.

"It is normal that I play such tunes," Said Holmes as he set the violin down on a nearby table and lifted a few papers from his desk, passing it on to Watson. Before he can take them, Holmes told him, "What can you make of that, Watson?"

"A mother and her daughter was murdered yesterday. The case has been left unsolved by the police." Watson's eyes passed the words and began to think. Holmes saw Watson gazing into space and laughed.

"It's fascinating, right?" Holmes walked to his pipe and took it, taking the match with him. Before Watson could answer, Holmes struck a match.

"Do you think this is a-"

"String of attacks? Yes I do. I do indeed but the grand question is... Why?" Holmes releases a large puff of smoke as he sighed and paced around for a moment.

"The man is taking no prisoners. Veronica became an exception because she refused to die from that same man."

"Correct! Finally, you are on the same page as I am!" he exclaimed as he held the pipe with his lips and clapped his hands together for the man in front of him. "It's obviously that the man is highly skilled in combat but we shall see about knowledge and strategies. We mustn't underestimate this man without knowing who he is, Watson. It's a common mistake that I greatly forbid. Come with me to the scene, Immediately."

"But we weren't summoned."

"Not the matter. We can come and go into crime scenes as we please!" he laughed as he placed down his pipe and hastily walked with Watson to the hall.

"Well, I'm going as well." The two men heard the voice of Veronica and turned their heads to her. "Well done using Mrs. Hudson as a distraction, Holmes. If you wish for me to stay, just tell me." She glared at Holmes, placing her hands firmly on her hips.

"You are like a child."

"I have been told. Besides, you need my assistance otherwise because Watson has a meeting with Mary." Veronica removed a letter from behind her and walked towards Watson. "Forgive me but the seal had been broken and it was open. My curious eyes are a curse."

"But I didn't-" Watson stopped sharply as he looked at Holmes directly in his eyes and back at Veronica. "I do have a meeting. Excuse me." he took the letter and stuffed it in his pocket, giving Holmes a glance and a nod before leaving down the steps quietly. Veronica had noticed that the Doctor's exit was unusual and hummed quietly to herself.

"I'll be done in seven minutes. No more than that." Veronica mumbled as she vanished into the room before shutting it. The taste of tobacco, still lingering in his mouth, had brought him back to the violin and the morning paper. Then thought about Veronica once more about how she doesn't understand that she is indeed lucky for a woman like herself. He knew that the man would have slain her right on the spot if he wanted to but what itches his glorious mind is... Why not? Why not...? And then...

"My dear... How obvious!" Everything began to string together but Holmes kept everything contained as he exclaimed with excitement. He rushed outside to catch the cab for both him and Veronica.

"Did he just say...?" Veronica mumbled as she put on her waistcoat over her buttoned, long sleeve, white shirt and sighed. Underneath her gray slacks, she wore boots instead of the usual pumps that her mother wears so that she would run in a time of need and slacks instead of a dress for combat purposes. She was always dressed like this in regular occasion and hardy wore a dress. She couldn't help it... She needed to be prepared.

"Veronica! Come immediately!" she heard Holmes shout from outside of her window and she began to walk out the door. She took her coat with her and tossed it around her as she closed the front door behind her. When she greeted Holmes, who was already in the cab, she had put on her coat properly and fastened the lacings.

"What's this about, Holmes?" She asked in her usual tone as she climbed in with him and shut the door. As the cab began going down Baker Street and took a right, Holmes was silent, only staring at Veronica deeply. "Speak to me."

"I'm not sure that I should say."

"Please, start with the case."

"That I cannot do."

"Why?"

"Because I might have it all figured already."

"Then who is it?"

"I cannot tell you yet. We have to study the scene of crime that may be connected to your mother." Holmes leaned back comfortably and he looked out of the small window. "Your alive.." he mumbled. Veronica gave him a confused look.

"I know I am. I would not be here if I weren't."

"You have plenty of luck."

"Indeed I must have."

"Where did you say you attacked him?" he said as he took her wrist and turned her palm upwards to face him. He saw her nails, still a bit bloody, and hummed.

"His neck."

"Well!"

"What?"

"Nothing that will concern you."

"Holmes," she exhaled an impatient sigh as she tapped her foot lightly. "Can we not continue this back-and-fourth?"

"I warned you that I shouldn't speak."

"Holmes!" she shouted in frustration as she took her hands and placed them against her temples, rubbing softly to find relief from the pain he was giving her. Holmes smiled as he discovered something new about her.

"Patients is key, Veronica. Learn that to survive." He had told her before the cab hit a bump and stopped. She looked outside and towards a large villa on Victoria Street and before she got out, Holmes placed a gentle restraining hand on her shoulder and she just looked at him.

"You will remain quiet. You may speak but only to me. You are allowed to become suspicious at anytime. Most importantly, don't touch the evidence."

"I have done cases in my past with my brother. I can handle myself, Holmes." She said as she climbed out and softly landed on her feet. When Holmes led her towards the house, they notice a man standing outside the door. The man wore, what she can make out, is a police uniform.

"Ah, Lestrade... Good to see you."

"Holmes, it's critical that you take a look immediately." Lestrade opened the door for the both of them to enter. Almost immediately, they saw the two victims on the wooden floor, nearly touching each other's fingers. Veronica couldn't help but gasp and cover her mouth as she took noticed that the poor woman bear resemblance to her dead mother, Amanda Williams, and the poor girl next to her bear remarkable resemblance to her herself. Now she knows what the murderer is after.


End file.
